Covered Correspondence

Chapter 17 The Package of Doom

So...much...candy...actaully not that much, and that stinks. I almost look foreward to the sugar hangover after Halloween and I suprisingly didn't get one. What a dissapointment if you ask me,(-Steve) anyways, enjoy the rest of this weekend! -Your Faithful Writers-Steve~Lewis- 

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On the third day since Reed and Chelsea's fight and when I had signed up for the mission, there was a knock at my door. It was Tim, our contacts director. He was the youngest director we had at the agency and was very efficient for his age.

"Here, Mark. This is your mail," Tim handed me a medium sized package and a small purple slip. The purple slip had Chelsea's handwriting on it. It read:

To: Mark

From: Chelsea

Mark,

get your butt over here! I just received a  package! Bring yours and we'll open them together.

 

I wondered how Chelsea knew I had known about my package and then looked at the base of the paper.

P.S. I rummaged through your mail, that's how I know about your package. Now stop just standing there and meet me by the girl's bathroom, dum-dum!!

 XOXOX Chelsea

"Thanks Tim," I had forgotten that he was standing there still.

"You're welcome," Tim moved on to the next dorm. I headed down to the girl's bathroom. Chelsea was already standing there checking her watch when I arrived.

"There you are! I thought you were never going to come!" Chelsea exclaimed. At first I thought she was telling me to go back in the girl's bathroom and I was about to say that it was never going to happen, when she grabbed wrist and pulled me into another corridor that I had never even been to, let alone knew existed. Then she dragged me into a small, plain room with a small table and two chairs in it, but we didn't sit down.

"Are we supposed to be in here?" I asked nervously.

"Yeah, these are all open conference rooms. Soon we'll be in here ALOT more. Now pull out your package!" Chelsea commanded. I did so and forced her to explain.

"Look, you get one when you have signed up for a mission. It will tell you whether you got in or not. Now, just open it up and slide the sheet up about three inches and see what it says!" I followed Chelsea's I instructions and read the two words typed out in bold print:

Application Accepted.

"So what does yours say?" Chelsea's face was shinning and I was pretty sure I knew what her form also said.

"I am accepted," I managed to wheeze. Before I could say a thing more, Chelsea threw her arms around my neck and kissed my cheek. I figured that she had been accepted too. When her excited relapsed for a second she went on reading hers out loud:

"Congratulations Chelsea Grace! You have been excepted for the Sahara Desert Mission!"

She went on and on and I began looking over my sheet. It read: "Congratulations Mark Brenner! You have been selected by the council for the Card Acceptance Failure Mission (CAF)  #85263..." I stopped reading mid-sentece. We had been accepted for different missions.